


One autumn night

by mybigfatcat



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, But I guess 2016 could work for the purpose of this story too, First Time Bottoming, M/M, MADE era, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Well probably closer to 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-01 17:31:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13299744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybigfatcat/pseuds/mybigfatcat
Summary: One autumn night, Seungri, bearing gifts of beer and squid chips, gets played.





	One autumn night

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short and uncomplicated story I wrote during a couple of evenings, I hope you'll enjoy!
> 
> If you want some accompanying music while reading I recommend these two remixes of BLUE by TZECHAR:  
> [BIGBANG 빅뱅 - BLUE (Sarang Oh Oh Remix)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dXYx8h0o9hw)  
> or  
> [BIGBANG 빅뱅 - BLUE (Mature Remix)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zPNw_T3YBGo)
> 
> I've also got a playlist on Spotify that I used while writing certain parts:  
> ["Romantic Writing" playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/mybigfatcatishungry/playlist/18OYIHoqgCUdyZT8el9Lqf)

\---

 

Seungri is having his second phone conference of the day as he sits and taste tests sauces. There’s chili sauces and mustard sauces and more sauces with wasabi and yuzu than he can even count. Every choice needs to be locked down before the evening, even which of the twelve different sample bowls they will use to serve the sauces in. He straightens his back and nods a thanks to the restaurant manager who’s handing him the next tiny cup of sauce. He knew there was going to be a lot of work in running a restaurant chain, there was no point in complaining now.

“So, how’s the mayo?” one of his business partners asks on the speaker phone.

“It’s fine, much better now. It works well with the side dishes,” Seungri replies and tries to remember which of the dozens tiny cups that contained the new mayo.

“Good, it didn’t really mesh earlier,” one of the chefs says and the people on speakerphone agree. Next up is some sort of tomato sauce they’ve created to _not be ketchup_. Seungri thinks he’s going to have nightmares about tiny paper cups and five different mustard based sauces that he can’t even taste the difference between.

When they’re finally done, after an additional hour of sauce tasting and another hour of discussing the bowls, it’s seven in the evening and the streetlights cast a yellow light on the streets.The Seoul air is chilly and crisp, as autumn has just crept in across the country. Seungri draws in a deep breath before unlocking his car and getting in. His car starts with the kind of satisfying growl he loves, the sound echoes between the buildings as he drives away, heading home.

It's while he’s slowing down to let people cross a street further down the road that he hears his phone beep from where he’s placed it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. Seungri takes a quick look at the screen and can’t help but to laugh a little to himself. It’d been a bit too quiet there for a moment, he has to admit.

When he reaches the bigger road connecting to the highway he puts his phone on speaker and dials the number. It only takes one signal before someone answers with a tired, “Seungri.”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

The person on the other end is quiet for a moment, then he coughs and snivels a little.

“Sick again? You have to take better care of yourself, Kwon Jiyong” Seungri chides and smirks when he hears a growl in return.

“Mind your own business, where are you anyway? I don’t want another monster phone bill like last month.”

“I’m leaving Gangnam right now. Arrived this morning.”

“You didn’t tell me you’d be home today!”

Jiyong’s voice changes, he doesn’t sound irritated, more like disappointed. Seungri sighs and indicates a right turn with his car, heading for an exit that will take him in the complete opposite direction of his apartment.

“I did, but you don’t read my messages half of the time,” Seungri says, threading dangerous grounds. He is already tired from travelling and working and testing a hundred sauces that has made his stomach churn uncomfortably just by thinking about it, he shouldn't be starting an argument on top of it. “I had to work.”

“It’s this darn phone, I swear it eats messages” Jiyong says and Seungri can hear the slight whine in his voice even if he’s trying to play it cool.

“Hey, Jiyong, what do you say about some delivery food and beer? I have nowhere to be tomorrow, I can take a cab home and let someone pick the car up tomorrow.”

Seungri laughs again when he hears the sudden thump and bang echoing from Jiyong’s end. There’s probably art pieces spread out all over Jiyong’s living room and stacks of boxes everywhere. When left alone for a week he had a tendency to start collecting things, and go shopping. And knowing Jiyong he’s now busy trying to figure out how to try to hide the mess even though no one cares - and his mother usually took care of it whenever she came by to make sure her children still were alive.

“Ehm...”

“Too busy for your youngest member?”

“No, come over, sure... yeah you can come but don’t spill wine on my rug this time,” Jiyong says and is pacing somewhere in his apartment by the sound of it.

“Great, I’ll be there.”

-

“So, new couch,” Seungri says and points at the sand colored leather couch standing in the middle of the big living room. He’d arrived a while later than he usually would’ve because there had been road work blocking one of the highway exits, creating a slow-moving traffic jam. By the time he had exited the elevator on Jiyong’s floor his older friend had been waiting for him in the doorway with arms crossed over his chest.

“I’ve already ordered,” he’d said and walked into the apartment, leaving Seungri to take off his shoes and put his coat away in the coat closet by himself. When he had entered the apartment through the short hallway he’d found Jiyong seated on the floor beside the stereo system.

“Mhm, Dami hated the black one. Iye too,” Jiyong offers as explanation and Seungri chuckles and shakes his head.

“I come bearing gifts of incense and myrrh,” he jokes and puts the black plastic bags he’d been carrying down on the coffee table. Jiyong gives him a look.

“It’s beer, and chips,” Seungri explains, “the kind you like.”

Jiyong instantly gets up and rifles through both bags, then he sits down on the sand colored, new, couch with a can of beer and a bag of squid and potato chips.

“You’re welcome,” Seungri says and laughs.

With squid chips and a beer, Jiyong seems to be in a much better mood. He even pats the couch beside him and tells Seungri to sit. Seungri complies and throws an arm around Jiyong’s shoulder, showing that he’s not angry that Jiyong hasn’t found time to see him even once in the past month.

“You’re not really sick again, are you?” Seungri asks and takes the beer can from Jiyong’s hand and takes a swig. The beer fizzes nicely as he swallows, but it makes the hairs on his arms stand, or maybe it's the way Jiyong leans closer to him.

“No, I’m just... you know tired,” Jiyong says and takes the beer can back. He dumps the bag of chips on the table in order to be able to rest his hand on Seungri’s thigh. He even gives it a bit of a squeeze and Seungri, surprised, draws in a sharp breath before he can stop himself. This was the dangerous side of hanging out with his friend.

“Too much Jiu-jitsu?” Jiyong asks and smirks as he pinches the thigh, back to his usual playful self.

Seungri flinches and pouts, all of it an act. He pushes Jiyong’s hand away and rubs the spot, acting like his muscles are sore, even though he feels ridiculous putting on an act.

Luckily, before more questions can be asked, the food arrives. The arrival is announced by the ring of the doorbell and the screen sitting in the wall, showing the delivery boy’s face looking up at the camera, and he quickly gets up to pay for it and bring it back to the kitchen. The delivery boy probably got ten times his usual tip, but Seungri is too occupied to look closely at the bills he has pulled out of his wallet.

This is just because he is tired, he argues with himself. Flying back and forth, here and there, has started to make him a bit slow and twitchy. That’s why his defenses are at an all time low at the moment, that’s why he feels a warm blush creep up from his chest and neck when Jiyong circles his arms around his waist while he is taking out the containers of food from the box they had come in.

Maybe he should’ve gone on a date when he had been in Japan, he’d gotten several calls from his usual dates, but somehow the idea of wining and dining women with tight dresses and expensive diamond earrings had felt like too much work. He had gone clubbing instead, danced with a few girls, gotten drunk, and taken none of them back to the hotel. It usually wasn’t this difficult to resist just turning around and... no, he told himself. NO.

Jiyong, oblivious and in a much better mood once he couls smell the dumplings and the stir-fried noodles through the plastic containers, leans forward and takes a deep breath.

“It’s that good place you like,” Jiyong says, “where they have the stuffed peppers.”

“I noticed by the logo on the box,” Seungri replies and feels the blush creeping higher. He releases himself from the arms around him and circles the tall kitchen table to sit on the opposite side. Maybe some food and a few moments of distance will help him to get a grip on himself. He really needs to find his way back to the usual banter they share, that relaxed and nagging kind of friendship that has worked so well for them the last decade.

As with all the best laid plans, this one too comes crashing and burning to ruin. Jiyong grabs a pair of the bamboo chopsticks and his beer can and comes to sit beside Seungri.

Jiyong pushes a container to the space in front of him and gestures at him with the chopsticks.

“Eat. They’re for you.”

Seungri tears off the plastic wrapped around the container and sure enough, two neat rows of stuffed and fried peppers, all his apparently, awaits him. With all the projects on Jiyong’s mind, and all the people Jiyong regularly hangs out with, Seungri is always surprised when Jiyong remembers a single thing about him. He always pretends like he doesn’t know a thing about Seungri during the silly games they play at the fan meets. He’d answer a question right here and there, but usually he’d go for the obvious laughs instead. You’d never know that he knows Seungri’s favorite... everything.

“Thanks, Jiyong,” Seungri says and starts to eat, playfully elbowing his friend to get access to the big container of steamed rice. The blush warms his neck, but he ignores it and chews his food like his life depends on it.

Iye, Jiyong’s cat, hops up and sits on one of the chairs opposite both of them and only walks away when he’s sure there’s nothing on the table that would fit his tastes. 

-

They’d had a short argument over which movie to watch, but they’d both settled for some sort of Korean police thriller neither of them had seen yet. Jiyong knows the director of photography and Seungri knows half of the cast. It’s fun watching people they know, being on the other side of the television screen for a change. They barely watch half of it between them though, with all the text messaging, chatting and email writing they do on their phones.

Seungri is feeling more like himself after the food, more like his skin actually fits him and with no blush threatening to climb to his face. Then again he’s chosen the strategic seating of the one lonely leather chair to the left of the couch, where Jiyong can’t sit anywhere near him unless he’d sat on the floor. The space between him and Jiyong lying on the opposite side of the couch gives him the space he hadn’t been given during their meal.

Seoul glistens and sparkles outside the big glass windows, creating patterns and causing warm strings of light to dance across the roof of the living room. Whenever Seungri has looked too long at Jiyong’s relaxed face, the way it’s lit up by the TV and the screen of his apparently broken phone, he forces himself to look up and follow the lines of shadow on the white ceiling.

When it’s past midnight and the end credits roll on the TV Jiyong yawns and turns it off.

Seungri starts to get up, “time for me to leave? I’ll call for a-”

“No,” Jiyong interrupts and stands as Seungri stands and they both pause their movements. They’re both looking at each other a bit confused.

“No, I mean, stay, it’s gonna take you a couple of hours to go back, it’s late...” Jiyong’s voice trails off. He’s got that look on his face that Seungri’s seen he gets after concerts sometimes.

Oh, Seungri thinks, he’s lonely, that’s why he’d messaged him earlier.

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” Jiyong says, and gestures for Seungri to sit.

“I’ll stay,” Seungri calls out after him and laughs when Jiyong turns and gives him thumbs up as he walks down the hallway.

It’s not until Jiyong is back that Seungri realizes what he’s just agreed to.

-

“There’s no wall for you to lie up against,” Jiyong jokes as they’re both, wearing pajamas, standing in front of Jiyong’s bed. A reference back to the time when Jiyong would share bed with Seungri during their trainee days, back when Seungri was still not used to sharing a bed since he’d grown up as the oldest sibling back home.

The pajama bottoms that Jiyong has borrowed him are a bit tight, so Seungri pulls them down an inch and tries his best not to sigh. Beside him, Jiyong laughs and looks absolutely gorgeous with his floppy black hair and his freshly washed face. Seungri once again has to look away.

“Left or right?” he asks even if he knows the answer and flops down on the left side of the bed, Jiyong, still laughing, joining him on the right. Iye had followed them as far as the bathroom but had opted to hide in Dami’s bedroom. “He does that when people who hates animals come here,” Jiyong had joked and Seungri had pouted. Jiyong was right though, that cat didn’t like him one bit, or rather, didn’t care if he existed or not.

Seungri knows that there is in fact a guest room in Jiyong’s huge apartment, that there’s at least a heated floor and a spare sleeping mat he can borrow. But that’s not why Jiyong has manipulated him to come over, he’s in _that_ mood. The mood when Seungri has to act teddy bear and try to sleep while Jiyong clings to him and snores. It’s been a while since this happened the last time. Jiyong must’ve broken up with a girlfriend recently, or stopped dating someone, Seungri thinks. Those are the usual reasons to him feeling lonely when they’re not on tour.

They spend yet another hour or so in the dimly lit room, reading stuff on their phones, showing each other silly photos a friend or family member has taken. At some point Jiyong’s foot finds Seungri’s under the thick duvet, and a moment later they’re lying shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh on the bed. It’s warm, relaxing, and Seungri feels himself drift off, phone still in his hand. He suddenly awakes when Jiyong takes it from him and sets it down on the bedside table on the side of the bed.

“Jet lag?” Jiyong asks, Seungri shakes his head and is almost a bit too drowsy to react when a hand sneaks its way across his chest, dragging against the fabric of the T-shirt he’s borrowed. Almost.

Now this is different.

“No, just too many phone calls I think,” Seungri says and feels Jiyong shift so he’s lying pressed into Seungri’s side, face just an inch away from Seungri’s neck. He can feel every breath his friend is taking, and the movement of his jaw as he speaks.

“You’re so good, you work hard.”

“Thanks,” Seungri says and can’t stop a shiver running all the way from his head to his toes. There’s something off, something that’s not like it usually is. Or maybe everything is as it always is, it’s just that he’s not in his right mind right now. Tonight has been tough, situations which he usually just breezes through makes him blush and shiver. Now he’s blushing again and feeling that urge he otherwise manages to repress just fine.

Nothing has changed between them, Seungri still worships Jiyong, and Jiyong doesn’t know. Can’t know. 

When Jiyong moves one of his legs over and in between Seungri’s legs he barely bites back a curse.

Fuck, he thinks, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK.

If he can just keep his cool and not embarrass himself until Jiyong falls asleep then everything will be okay. He can go back to repressing and not thinking about it and maybe his feelings will cool down to a very _platonic_ friendship at some point. The important part is that he can’t ever give into that strong urge, the need to feel Jiyong’s lips against his, to kiss him and tell him just how much he-

Jiyong moves his leg, slowly upwards, tightly against Seungri’s thigh. It stops Seungri’s train of thoughts completely.

“Ehm?” he manages, trying to turn his face so he can look at Jiyong.

“How long are we going to pretend that you don’t get half-hard just by me sleeping next to you?” Jiyong asks, and Seungri thinks he might be having a heart attack. The only thing he can hear except for Ji’s voice is the loud noise of blood rushing through his veins. His mouth has gone dry and he’s having trouble shaping words.

“What? No that’s not- I’m not. No,” Seungri says and tries to move away. Jiyong holds him in place with the arm he’s placed over his torso.

“I don’t mind,” Jiyong says, and the confidence is completely gone from his voice. Seungri realizes that he’s more nervous than Seungri, his voice even shakes. It feels like an epiphany, that while he has been crushing on Jiyong for a decade, maybe Jiyong has been doing the same.

Seungri pushes Jiyong’s arm away from him so he can turn and face him, ignores the way Jiyong struggles against his grip against his wrist.

“What do you exactly mean by that?”

“I mean I don’t mind, I wouldn’t mind... I like it,” Jiyong says, his voice unsure and shaky, “Youngbae told me, what you told him last weekend.”

“I told him _what_!?”

“Oh,” Jiyong says and looks shocked, “you don’t remember? This is so embarrassing, you probably didn’t even mean it like that. Youngbae must’ve been more drunk than you.”

While Seungri struggles to even breathe, Jiyong is the one who now pulls away and sits up, “this is so typical, I thought that maybe if I hinted that you’d... you know, understand how I felt.”

“What exactly did he tell you?” Seungri asks, still holding onto Jiyong by his wrist.

“He told me that you’re in love with me.”

The room falls into silence, both staring at each other.

Sure, Seungri had been drunk, but he’s sure that he’s buried that truth so deep down in his guts that no one would ever draw it out. He thought he’d shaped his heart into a labyrinth to hide this secret. Other people might feel relief when a secret like this is revealed, but all Seungri can feel is fear.

“Jiyong,” he starts, mouth still too dry, lips and tongue almost numb.

“You weren’t meant to know.”

It makes sense now though, why Jiyong has been messaging him all week, why he called and made sure that Seungri would come over.

“What’s the point in acting like you’ve got this epic unrequited love when you find out it isn’t unrequited at all?” Jiyong asks and smiles a little. It looks more like a smirk in this dim light, and Seungri feels all those urges and all that want build up again.

Suddenly he’s halfway out of the bed, still holding on to Jiyong’s wrist. He’s not sure why he’s moved, and why he’s stopped, but something sort of falls into place when Jiyong pulls him back. This is Jiyong, the man he’s idolized, had a crush on and loved for over a decade. Hell if he’s going to let this chance slip through his fingers just because he’s afraid. Before he knows it they’re kissing, both of them moving closer at the same time. Jiyong already has his free arm around Seungri’s back, stopping him from moving away again.

It’s electric, magnetic, like fireworks and fire, all those cliché words. When their lips meet it’s almost too much, Seungri has never been kissed like this before. Their teeth clash, their tongues entwine, Jiyong bites his lower lip and Seungri moans. 

“You- what- I-,” he says between kisses, half of his muddled and unfinished sentences against Jiyong’s mouth.

It draws a laugh out of Jiyong, or maybe more of a chuckle, and Seungri has to put a knee against the side of the bed and ease back, just so he can look at his face.

“I thought you’d be more smooth than that,” Jiyong says, looking completely honest, “you’re the resident player in our group after all.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. We both know that’s not true,” Seungri says with a breathy voice, he’s having trouble getting enough air into his lungs, as if he’s stuck in constant shock.

Jiyong just laughs some more, definitely in earnest, and Seungri thinks he would’ve blushed if he hadn’t done so already. This is a very dangerous situation, he knows, logically, that he should pull back, put his own clothes back on and call a car to pick him up and drive him home. Neither of them can afford this kind of a scandal, and oh boy what a scandal it would be if people even found out about this one kiss. 

Seungri has lived all of his adult life with paparazzi hiding behind every corner, every move he makes is scrutinized by thousands and thousands pairs of eyes on a daily basis. He doesn’t want to live that kind of life forever, at some point he wants to be able to just take a stroll in the shopping district with his wife, he wants to be able to drop off his kids at school without getting mobbed. At the same time he knows that you can’t get everything you want in life. But he can choose.

He’s been quiet for a while, and Jiyong has furrowed his brows while looking at him while he’s been thinking. It’s not fair to Jiyong, to keep him waiting like this, he must feel even more of the panic that’s bunching up in Seungri’s guts.

When Seungri looks into Jiyong’s dark and worried eyes he can’t resist to reach out and stroke his cheek. This is Seungri’s beautiful leader, his biggest idol and teenage crush after all. He is Seungri’s first love.

“I’m not that kind of person,” he finally says, “you know that right? We can’t do... this, if you think I’m not to be trusted around women. That wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

Jiyong closes his eyes and sighs, sits back on the bed and Seungri unconsciously follows him back up on the bed. Seungri can feel that magnetic current between them stronger than ever before. When Jiyong opens his eyes again he reaches out to hold Seungri’s face between the palms of his hands. “I know you better than anyone,” he says, and kisses Seungri again.

-

Seungri’s phone pings, vibrates and beeps and plays ring signals constantly, every day, every hour, day and night. Some people get drowned in the constant flood, but not Jiyong. When Seungri doesn’t answer his calls, he calls again six hours later. He leaves irritated voice mails. He text messages, spams Seungri in the chat, calls again and again and even comments on Seungri’s instagram photos. It’s impossible to forget that Jiyong exists.

What Seungri does most times is to ignore it and to simply not reply. It’s easier that way. It’s not like his older friend ever really answers him back when he’s the one calling.

It has turned into some sort of delicate and intricate dance, something only they know how to navigate. Even though Seungri never knows when Jiyong is in Seoul or not, he has never had any trouble finding out when he needs to know. There’s clues and insinuations in every piece of failed attempt at communication.

When Seungri sits down to test a hundred condiment sauces in one of his ramen restaurant locations in Seoul his eyes is drawn to the screen every time he sees a new chat message light up the screen. He doesn’t even have to read them, he instinctively knows who they’re from.

There’s recently been a sudden increase in messages from Jiyong, and he knows it could be because of everything from him being stressed over work, to his controlling nature shining through.

“Where are you at?”

“Hey?!”

“Hey you little scoundrel!”

Seungri smiles and quickly forgets about the sudden burst of messages when more people join him in the room and the tasting starts.

-

Jiyong tastes like green tea toothpaste and simply like Jiyong. He’s warm, he’s bony and way too thin, but he’s Jiyong. Jiyong who Seungri has grown up admired and loved since even before he turned an adult. At first, when they’ve wrapped their arms around each other and ended up on their sides on the bed, still kissing, he has a hard time not letting his mind wander. Not that he’d rather be anywhere but in his arms, but it’s just so unbelievable that this is happening. That Jiyong, who could pick any woman, or man, has been carrying the same secret as Seungri.

It’s when Jiyong breaks free from the kiss so he can kiss Seungri’s jaw, his chin and his nose, that Seungri, drawing in a deep and shaky breath, feels reality catch up with him.

It forces Seungri to push Jiyong back until he’s on his back, looking up with wide eyes.

“You’re the most beautiful human being I’ve ever seen,” Seungri confesses, his heart beating hard and fast in his chest. Jiyong makes a strange face, but reaches up to pull Seungri down into another kiss nonetheless. 

“You’re full of bullshit,” Jiyong says with a tone of voice that Seungri knows very well. He chuckles, Seungri tugs at the hem of his shirt and Jiyong complies, lifting himself up so Seungri can pull the shirt up and off of him.

“And you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Seungri retorts and presses kiss after kiss down Jiyong’s neck, down past his collarbones and down to the black ink on his ribcage. Jiyong shivers beneath him, and Seungri can feel through the thin cotton of Jiyong’s pajama pants that he’s hard.

Patience has never been Jiyong’s strongest suit, so Seungri isn’t completely surprised when their positions suddenly reverse and he gets pushed back against the mattress. Jiyong, breathless and with his hair standing on end, his lips read and swollen from Seungri’s mouth, really is the most beautiful thing Seungri has ever seen.

Jiyong must be able to feel how hard his cock is, Seungri thinks, there can be no doubt that he wants this just as much.

“Then why don’t you get going doing it?” Jiyong asks and smirks like only he can, it drives Seungri absolutely crazy on any other day, and now it burns him. He pushes his groin up against Jiyong’s hip, growls at the pressure and the friction of the cotton and Jiyong’s flesh. They both push against each other when he moves again, sending spikes of pleasure through their bodies. Soon the only sound in the room is their bodies grinding against each other and the rustle of the duvet. They swallow each others moans as they desperately kiss again and again.

Seungri doesn’t know how many times they’ve switches places on the bed, or how he lost his shirt, but they’re both shimmying out of their pants, legs entangling and slowing the process. Once he’s naked he doesn’t feel even a bit embarrassed, instead he can’t stop looking at Jiyong. The way the black ink of his tattoos makes his skin shine, or the way his hard cock is flushed and dark. Seungri can’t stop a groan when Jiyong, standing on his knees in front of Seungri, lazily pulls at his own cock, throwing his head back with pleasure.

“Let me,” Seungri says, pushing Jiyong back until he sits back, leaning on his elbows. He’s never done this before, not really. He’s been on the receiving end of a blowjob, sure, but he’s never given one. He licks his mouth nervously before placing one hand on Jiyong’s waist for balance, and one on Jiyong’s cock. It makes Jiyong moan and lean even further backwards.

He starts with a lick along the underside, along the raised veins. This isn’t that bad, he thinks, and licks again, feeling Jiyong shake under his hand. Next he kisses the tip, testing his own resolution by taking the tip in his mouth, slowly letting his mouth sink lower.

“God, Seungri, that feels so good,” Jiyong says and moans, his voice more hoarse than Seungri has ever heard it.

“I’m glad,” Seungri retorts and looks up with a smile, before taking Jiyong’s cock into his mouth again, palming his own hardon with the hand that’s not on Jiyong’s waist.

He tries bobbing his head up and down in a quicker pace, swirls his tongue around the head like he knows he likes himself, and Jiyong completely gives up on holding himself up from the bed and collapses against it. Seungri pumps his fist on his cock while sucking Jiyong, halfway consumed with the pleasure and the heat he feels.

It won’t last long if he continues at this pace, he knows this, but it’s so hard to stop. It takes Jiyong’s warning, and Jiyong’s hand against his shoulder, before he eases off and sits back His jaws are aching, and he’s not really used with the taste of another man’s cock in his mouth, but he wanted to do it again and again just to feel Jiyong lose control like that.

“Fuck,” Jiyong hisses as he, still with a hand against his shoulder, pushes Seungri back against the pillows.

“Fuck, yes, let’s,” Seungri says and reaches out to caress Jiyong’s chest and his hips, reaching back until he can squeeze his ass with the palms of his hands.

“That’s not-”

“I want to,” Seungri interrupts Jiyong and looks him straight in the eyes, “except if you don’t.”

“No, god, Seungri I do, I really do,” Jiyong says and then they’re kissing again, sloppy and wet kisses. Jiyong’s cock is also wet, and hot, against Seungri thigh. It sends spikes of pleasure down his spine and out to his hard on just thinking about the fact that his mouth was on Jiyong’s cock just moments ago.

He almost whines when Jiyong moves away from him to rifle through one of the drawers in his bedside table, it gives him a good view of his ass though. He whistles in appreciation, which makes Jiyong turn and glare.

“You’re bottoming though,” Jiyong says as he moves back with a condom packet and a small bottle of lube.

“I’ve never had sex with a man before so I don’t think it matters, if I’m on top or on the bottom,” Seungri says and Jiyong nods with a determined look on his face. Leave it to Kwon Jiyong to take sex just as serious as producing an album. It's one of those things that makes Seungri's heart swell with warmth.

“Have you ever, you know...”

“Fingered myself?” Seungri asks helpfully.

“Yeah?”

“Sure, I know how it’s done,” Seungri says and takes the lube from Jiyong, pouring out a little onto his fingers.

It’s a bit tricky, stretching his hole out with Jiyong crawling all over him, both trying to get a look at the way Seungri’s fingers disappear beyond the tight ring, and kissing him senseless. He makes it work though, adding fingers slowly and scissoring them until he can move three fingers out and in without any difficulty. Seungri has always loved stretching himself, he can almost make himself come just with his fingers up his ass. The slow rub against the area just beside his prostate is driving him insane, making sweat gather on his face and his chest. He knows he’s ready when he feels the electric shocks of pleasure has made his cock hard and dripping.

“Jiyong,” he moans as he removes his fingers and pulls his legs up, bending them at the knees, as far against himself as he can.

Jiyong, again with that determined look, sits back on his heels in order to put the condom on, spreading additional lube on it. 

“Okay?” Jiyong asks as he lines the tip of his cock up with Seungri’s hole, tentatively pushing against it.

“Okay,” Seungri replies and instantly has to draw in a breath as Jiyong pushes in.

It’s slow and it burns in all the right ways, it takes a few slow movements in and out before Jiyong can bottom out, balls pressed against Seungri’s ass. They both moan, Jiyong shifts his weight so he can lean forward and kiss Seungri deeply before leaning back again. When he starts to move, slowly then more hurriedly, Seungri almost loses his mind. It’s completely different, yet infinitely better than he could’ve ever dreamt it would be.

After a few thrusts Jiyong’s cock grazes his prostate and then he’s lost. He can’t even hear the sounds he’s making because the only thing he hears is the way Jiyong moans his name. It won’t last long, they’re both too wound up and tired and it’s too much for them to ever manage to rein in. So he meets Jiyong’s thrusts and wraps his hand around his own cock, pumping it in the same pace.

Their bodies are slick with sweat and Jiyong has his eyes closed above him. He’s shaking, and Seungri isn’t much better off, his back arched and his thighs vibrating with the tension that’s building in his groin. He feels his orgasm getting closer which each thrust, and Jiyong isn’t far behind. When Seungri’s whole world goes white, pleasure exploding within his every cell, he feels the erratic thrusts of Jiyong, the way he can’t control himself before he also reaches his climax.

They lie together afterwards, limbs entangled, kissing each other and caressing every inch of skin they can reach with their hands. Seungri can’t tell if minutes or hours has passed when they’re both calm enough to move.

Jiyong moves away first and gets up from the bed to disappear out of the room and to the bathroom. When he returns he’s wiped Seungri’s come of his stomach and thrown away the used condom. He’s brought a soft and wet towel to clean Seungri with, something he does very diligently and carefully. Seungri feels his heart swell again, dangerously close to overflowing with love.

Then a sudden realization hits him.

“I totally forgot,” Seungri says with wide eyes, “your... sister?”

Jiyong laughs and throws the towel on the floor, then pulls the duvet out from under their legs and up over them until it covers them to the waist.

“Why do you think I was so eager to have you come over? I’ve got the place all to myself.”

Jiyong’s laugh turns even more evil when Seungri sighs in relief.

“I’d never embarrass you like that,” he says and settles tiredly against Seungri’s chest, one arm slung across him. Seungri’s arms come up to embrace him, to hold him as close as he possibly can.

“So you _do_ love me?” Seungri whispers teasingly against the top of Jiyong’s head.

The last thing Seungri hears, before letting the heaviness of his limbs pull him to sleep, is Jiyong’s tired “of course you idiot”.

-

Seungri had just meant to meet Youngbae for a drink, and to move on to a bar that some of his friends had rented afterwards. But a drink had turned into another and it was always so very addicting to talk with Youngbae. Somehow they’d ended up talking about the MADE tour, and the complete mess that booking hotel rooms for a lot of people can lead to.

“I don’t know how many times I had to share room with Kyungrae,” Yougbae said and sighed, but not without a smile on his lips.

“I’d rather share a room with my manager than with Jiyong. He’d stumble into the room hours after everyone else had come back to the hotel and wake me up. Why did I always have to share room with him anyway?!” Seungri says and Youngbae laughs at him, that wide smile with closed eyes that he does so well.

“What I don’t get is why it bothers you so much?” Youngbae asks as he pours a new shot of shoju for his younger friend.

“It doesn’t bother me,” Seungri protests.

“Yeah, you always say that too,” Youngbae says and his smile is more of a smirk now. 

Seungri is glad that the corner of the bar that they are sitting in is pretty dark, otherwise Youngbae might’ve seen the color rise on his cheeks.

“I don’t.”

“You do, and no matter what we’re talking about, you somehow always find a way to change the subject into Jiyong this or Jiyong that,” Youngbae complains and gestures for Seungri to actually drink the shot he’s poured for him.

It’s late and empty green shoju bottles are starting to pile up on the small table in front of them. Seungri’s whole head is buzzing, buzzing loud and hard enough that he doesn’t react when Youngbae smiles even wider and more crooked than before.

“Whatever, I don’t do that at all,” Seungri argues. They drink and Seungri forgets the way Youngbae looks at him with that wide smile every time Seungri unknowingly leads their conversation back to Kwon Jiyong.

Seungri couldn’t be more unaware of what Youngbae would later tell Jiyong, or that Youngbae had had this exact discussion with Jiyong just the night before. Youngbae, fully well knowing that their mutual obsession must mean _something_ , decides to stir the pot.

 

\---


End file.
